


You Got Inside My Head

by Nikander (stygianchild)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Animal Death, Before and After, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, He was so whipped man it was love at first grind, Heartwarming, It's not Makkachin don't worry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past, Viktor is Whipped, Viktor jacked it right after the GPF Banquet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stygianchild/pseuds/Nikander
Summary: Viktor could never stop thinking about Yuuri no matter what. He was everywhere now, not just in his life, but in his surroundings too.





	You Got Inside My Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic i write in like three years I think? that I don't actually hate? So I don't expect it to be amazing but I am quite happy with it. Also I wanna thank Isabella ([@witchbane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/witchbane/pseuds/witchbane)) for being my beta! You did a wonderful job and I really appreciate it!

“What are you thinking about?” They were snuggled against each other on the couch in the living room, Yuuri between Viktor’s legs, resting his back against his chest. The only background noise was the cheery chirp of the birds outside of their window, a cooling glass of coffee laid on the table next to the sofa, and a book was lowered down onto Yuuri’s lap when he dropped the question. Viktor had gone silent; he had been humming as he stroked Yuuri’s arm while he read but got suddenly hit with thoughts, enough for him to focus solely on them. It wasn’t any out of the ordinary thinking. He thought about Yuuri, he was always thinking about Yuuri.

 

What was so different this time than the others? He always thought about Yuuri in the sense that he missed him, whenever he wasn’t with Yuuri he thought of him. When Yuuri was asleep he thought of ways to wake him up gentler than the last time. When he was above over him at night, with their bodies flush against each other, he though about how to make the next time better. He thought about what new joke to say to make him laugh, or what to buy him that would surprise him, even what new routine to teach him during practice. The point was that Viktor could never stop thinking about Yuuri no matter what. He was everywhere now, not just in his life, but in his surroundings too. It was Yuuri’s mug that laid dirty on the sink, waiting to be washed; it was Yuuri’s laundry on the dryer; it was Yuuri’s toothbrush next to his on the bathroom, Yuuri’s smell on his skin, Yuuri’s clothes on the floor, Yuuri’s kiss on his lips, Yuuri…

 

The contrast between the time he was with Yuuri with the one without him was so strikingly different, yet he couldn’t remember what it felt like to _not_ be with him. Before, it was only him, alone with his dog on a city so big that he still didn’t know all the hidden corners of it, despite that he was born and raised there. Every morning had felt part of his routine: waking up at 5 am so he could go for his morning run at 6, but before leaving he had to feed his beloved Makkachin, then on the run he would be greeted by the old lady that sold homemade Syrniki in the café he’d frequent on his way back from the run. He’d order the same vanilla chai latter on the café, with his round of Syrniki that brought strawberry jam, his favourite, on the side. When he was home he’d get ready to go to the rink to practice and get yelled at by Yakov for god knows what reason it was that day, and it’d continue over and over again for weeks, months, _years_ …

 

But not anymore.

 

Now, he’d wake up to kiss Yuuri next to him on the bed, and would have him complaining about how bad his morning breath was. He’d eat the food Yuuri would make for him sometimes, and drink the coffee he made. He’d say hello to the old lady with Yuuri running next to him in the morning…

 

It was perfect.

 

It was _bliss_.

 

Loneliness had always been a constant factor in Viktor’s life, he had felt it even in his childhood. Despite his public popularity, not many would’ve thought that Viktor had few friends growing up as a kid. He had been practicing to become the figure skater he is now since the age of 7. He didn’t have too much time to mingle with the people at his school, and he was seen as pretty odd. A boy with long hair and crooked teeth that people made fun of sometimes; he had to wear braces for up until the age of 12, and he was always so self-conscious of it. He had friends but not any he’d call a close friend, maybe Georgi but that was because they were rinkmates with Yakov. At school he barely talked to others, contrary to popular belief, and only seemed to be active during art class and literature. He was never good at math or science, despite being interested in both. 

 

He spent most of his time in his room reading fairytales and dancing around to ballet music, and when he went outside it was to play in the snow with his pooch at the time, a lanky borzoi called Pushkin. Sadly, Pushkin died when he was involved in a car accident the one time he ran far from Viktor’s reach, but when he got over to him it was already too late. Viktor was 14 then.

 

For his 15 birthday however, and as a prize for winning his first Junior’s competition, Viktor got the tiniest poodle as a present. He was so excited, and crying from that excitement and happiness, that he completely forgot the word for Moccachino and named the pup Makkachin instead. Makkachin became his trusted companion from that day forward, and still remained as of today, his beloved old lady.

 

Yet there was always something missing in his life, and at the time he didn’t quite understand what it was. He liked to think of his long silver hair as a façade he had built. Beyond the illusion of a smile lay a turbulent truth, which he cautiously protected for the sake of his worth. Through the years he searched for the meaning of his discomfort, yet always got nowhere.

 

He decided to call it _loneliness_ , and kept trying to fill up that emptiness with gold. Thankfully he was an excellent performer, capable of masquerading his emotions to be what the world wanted to see. Once the gold wasn’t enough to keep hiding behind it though, he felt shackled. Restricted to do something simply for the sake of surprising others, but once that wasn’t enough, who was he? He’d done everything to find a purpose, he broke out of the cocoon in hopes that the change would give flight to his soul. Where was all the passion he felt whenever his blades touched the ice? Where was the love he could transmit through his dancing? Where was it? He felt useless, hopeless; he knew he was depressed but he had never felt it so deeply as he did now.

 

Until Yuuri.

 

Yuuri burst into his life that fateful night, and suddenly he felt an excitement no gold could ever compete against for. The heavy weight had lifted from his chest and he finally had a new goal to pursue. The emotions he felt during that banquet were more than he had ever felt all those years on the ice.  He felt them all at once: happiness, excitement, passion, love. He could almost say Yuuri saved him from his impending doom, or more like, he gave him what he needed to save himself. A purpose.

 

That night, Viktor fell in love with the person who he knew was the one at first glance. He had heard stories before, of people finding their soulmates, but he never believed in them and always thought of them as absurd, until it happened to him of course. For the first time in his life it all felt _right_. He no longer felt fear, and instead he found a renewed passion in all that he thought he didn’t love anymore. It showed in his skating routines for the season, it showed in how he all but flew off his feet.

 

He didn’t share it with anyone other than Chris, but the night of the GPF Banquet had been the first time in a while he had touched himself and actually enjoyed it. The image of the Japanese man on the pole made him cry out in pleasure and ecstasy more times than he had ever before. Other people he had been intimate with before hadn’t made him feel the way Yuuri did just after one night; they never satisfied him completely, and he was always on the receiving end.

 

He had wanted to make Yuuri feel as good as Yuuri made him feel, share with him the love that rippled from the inside and transfer it outwards. However, months went by and the man hadn’t talked to him again. Was he shy? Or maybe, Viktor had been led on. That was a thought he didn’t want to stray to, for he knew what that’d do to him, do to his pride. But when the video of Yuuri skating Viktor’s FS went viral, and Viktor himself saw it, he knew. In his heart Viktor knew it was a call for him to return to him. To answer him and answer he did. Viktor chased the man all the way to the other side of the world in hopes that he’d remember the night that brought them together, answering his call. But to Viktor’s dismay, Yuuri couldn’t remember a thing, he couldn’t remember the night that Yuuri literally swept Viktor off his feet as they danced together. Viktor was devastated, and he was willing to admit that that he spent his very first night in Japan crying as he looked at the pictures he kept so tightly knitted to his memory.

 

Despite the ups and downs that came from spending 8 months coaching and getting to know Yuuri Katsuki, he didn’t regret a single bit of it. Not only did they manage to get closer, but he managed to get a more personal look into the man that had stolen him from the rest of the world. God, did he fall in love more than he was before.

 

Viktor’s life was almost perfect now. His depression was and never would be cured, but he had a reason to wake up every morning now, a reason to try harder, a reason to smile and laugh. He had the love of his life with him, as a competitor, as a partner, as his everything. His love. His life. What he did to deserve such a wonderful man in his life like Yuuri he would never know, but he was more than grateful for it. He got to hold the man in his arms every night when they went to sleep, kiss him every morning, share a cup of coffee with him and share a couch, share a bed, share a bath. Got to touch him in the most intimate ways, got to fulfil Viktor’s desire of making him feel as loved as he deserved to be. Even Makkachin could notice the change in Viktor’s attitude; he had always been a cheery person, but it was more genuine now. Viktor was no longer afraid of expressing the emotions he so long had hidden from himself before.

 

He had always had a sweet tooth, and Yuuri was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

 

“Viktor…” Yuuri was the most beautiful thing…

 

“Viktor…….” …and Viktor was _so so_ in love with him.

 

“Viktor!”

 

He snapped out of his Yuuri-induced haze when when he was called back to reality again. He was suddenly back on the couch where they were bundled up, Yuuri’s book still in his lap, but now Yuuri was looking up to him curiously.

 

“Hmm?” he replied, not remembering what Yuuri had asked before.

 

“I asked what were you thinking about?” Oh right.

 

Viktor chuckled lightly, finding it funny that Yuuri would ask what was on his mind, when everything on his mind was about him. The hand that had been stroking Yuuri’s arm moved to caress the soft skin of his cheek as Viktor leaned down to catch his lips in a kiss, gentle and full of love. When he pulled away, he looked directly into Yuuri’s dreamy brown eyes, felt the happiness beginning to bubble up in his chest, and he smiled.

 

“You.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. 
> 
> Please leave some comments with what you thought of it! It'd be much appreciated.
> 
> Fic title came from the song ["Be The One" by Dua Lipa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rey3m8SWQI)
> 
>  
> 
> .


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